


Desperation

by SashaDistan



Series: Galra Week 2020 [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (it is implied I know s8 is garbage and doesn't exist), Canon Compliant, Cupboard Sex, During the War, First Time, Getting Together, Groping, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Top Antok (Voltron), Virgin Kolivan (Voltron), Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:07:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27423187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SashaDistan/pseuds/SashaDistan
Summary: Kolivan makes it back to base, but he almost didn't.He's not hurt, but he almost died.And it makes the Leader of The Blade of Marmora realise that there is knowledge he is missing, and which is more important than death.Or: Kolivan needs to lose his virginity NOW and Antok is very happy to enable that to happen.
Relationships: Antok/Kolivan (Voltron)
Series: Galra Week 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003470
Comments: 20
Kudos: 60





	Desperation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Galra Week 2020. Prompt 6: Soldier Life

Kolivan shakes as he steps from his ship into the main hanger. Even though it has taken him more than a varga to return, he cannot calm the shaking in his limbs, the way his chest heaves with each and every breath, or the way his mind continually replays the last few moments of the mission. Showing him all the ways in which it could have been different.

Maybe... he sets the bombs, aligns the timers, and that guard rounds the corner a second earlier and grabs him by his sash. The fight is messy, difficult to land good blows in such a cramped space. He is still standing there when the timers reach zero.

Maybe… he slinks in the shadows, unseen by the guard. Runs to his ship and is about to launch when he notices the malfunction of the bombs. They will not go off if he leaves now. He has to go back. He has to choose himself or the mission, and he knows which is most important for the universe at large.

Maybe… it all goes fine, just as it should have done, but as he breaks atmo there is a cluster of enemy ships, a patrol protecting this facility from threats just like Kolivan. He fights them off, but he doesn’t clear the blast zone before the bombs detonate. His ship is damaged, he cannot escape the second shock wave as a praxis ring of destruction fills the viewscreen in a halo of purple light.

Maybe...

So many possibilities, all of them only a hair away from what really happened, and Kolivan reaches out for the wall as he staggers. He is not hurt – and that was a close thing too – but that doesn’t mean he didn’t nearly die. And for the first time, Kolivan realises he would have regrets, if he died now.

He makes it down the passageway towards the main hub of the base, the mess hall and the common area where the Blades spend their off time, his heart still drumming in his ears. He scans the room, looking for a familiar shape without consciously deciding to do so. Kolivan sees his target, and his feet start moving again without his permission.

Knowledge or death. That is all Kolivan has ever allowed himself to have.

He has denied himself so much, because the fight was always more important that what he wanted.

He would die for their cause. He came close today.

Kolivan’s target turns towards him, a ready smile upon his face when he sees him approach. He lounges in a tie-sided tunic, discussing the haul of their latest swap moon trip with Revner and a few other Blades, and Kolivan realises he is tired of denying himself _this_ knowledge.

“Leader!” one of the newer Blades exclaims.

But Kolivan doesn’t care and doesn’t look, and simply crashes into Antok with his full weight, pushing the bigger Galra down into his seat, one hand sliding into his thick mane as their lips meet. It is hardly a kiss, more a pressing of faces as their teeth clack, but Kolivan presses the advantage of surprise and licks into Antok’s mouth. His feet no longer support him as he falls fully into Antok’s lap, fisting his fingers into Antok’s mane and tugging his comrade’s face into better position.

“Kolivan?” Antok breathes between them, his golden eyes huge with surprise.

Kolivan makes an affirmative noise in this throat and closes the gap with another kiss. This one is softer, but just as desperate as Antok’s lips meet his. His head turns just so to allow them to slot together, and Kolivan’s tiny inhale of pleasure gives Antok the opportunity to lick up into his mouth. A big, warm hand comes to rest on his waist, and suddenly the span of Antok’s fingers over his body is all Kolivan can think about.

He is wearing too many clothes.

He groans into the kiss, their lips not even parting for breath before he pulls the pillow of Antok’s lower lip into his mouth, sucking and nibbling the smooth flesh greedily. Antok’s other hand pets down his spine, curving over his hip, and Kolivan groans.

He has exactly zero experience with anything which comes beyond this, and it seems like a good time to choose knowledge, having just escaped death.

Antok’s casual tunic does not serve to be a complex barrier, and Kolivan has a hand up under the fabric in a tic, cupping his hands against the firm rounded muscles of Antok’s substantial pecs, dragging his claws over the many ridges of his abs. Antok groans into his mouth, and the chest Kolivan is practically straddling begins to vibrate between his legs with a purr. Antok’s tail wraps around the end of his braid, tugging away the tie which holds it, and then Antok’s hands are in his hair and his tongue is in Kolivan’s mouth and Kolivan is panting with his heart in his throat.

He has never felt more alive.

He feels Antok’s clever tail creep under the sash of his uniform, and then there is an overly loud and deliberate clearing of someone’s throat. Antok slumps underneath him with a groan which is more of a sigh, but Kolivan only goes rigid for a heartbeat.

He is making out with his second in command, in the common room, in the middle of a conversation.

And he absolutely does not want to stop.

Kolivan runs his fingers all the way down Antok’s abdomen until he reaches the tight band of his underwear and Antok moans.

“Antok-!” someone hisses, obviously realising that Kolivan is now deliberately ignoring them. “Stop him.”

“ _Ahh_ \- ha, why the fuck would I do that?” Antok manages. His beautifully defined abs jump and flex under Kolivan’s touch, and his chest heaves, and that is new and fascinating knowledge. Kolivan’s fingers tug at the band of the bigger Galra’s underwear again. It is in the way.

“Sweet Lord Vrekas, I can’t watch.”

“Dude, why not? I’m gonna.”

“What’s going on- _ohhhhhhhhh_ …”

Kolivan doesn’t care what anyone else thinks, only that they are interrupting his train of thought as he tries to get Antok out of his clothes. Antok’s tail is still moving over his chest, but there is a frustrating layer of high-tech pressurised xylon between them, and Kolivan doesn’t have a free hand to find the button which will release his suit. He growls in frustration against Antok’s lips, and then Antok’s forehead comes to rest against his own. Kolivan looks down into the ever familiar golden eyes, and sees them glowing with adoration and love.

This is a thing he knows, has known, for a while. But he has made himself sacrifice everything for the mission, believing that he was being selfless. But now, Kolivan looks at the rich abundance of joy in Antok’s face and realises that perhaps sometimes being selfish is good.

He still cannot get their bodies to touch, but this time his frustration is a whine.

“Shhh… sweet thing.” Antok’s voice, so low and soft against his ear, makes Kolivan shudder.

Then that sinuous tail is creeping over his shoulder, the tip tracing intimately along the high collar of his Blade suit before it finds the depressurisation button. The moment it is deactivated, the fabric around his body loosens, and Kolivan feels his cock swell in a rush. He ruts down against Antok’s abs, squeezing his thighs around the other Galra’s ribs, unable to verbalise what he wants, only that it’s _more_.

“Koli…” Antok doesn’t finish speaking before Kolivan is kissing him again, one hand roaming under his tunic and the other woven into his mane. He likes the way Antok pants into his mouth, loves the textures as their tongues stroke each other, adores the sensation of Antok’s big fangs on his own lips. “Nghhh…”

Kolivan preens, triumphant at making Antok flushed, and then his hands are lost in a puddle of black and grey fabric as Antok’s tail opens the long release strip down the back of Kolivan’s suit. A tic later, Antok’s hand is curling over the bare fur of his waist and Kolivan moans.

This is so much better without clothes.

“Fuck…” Other people are speaking. Kolivan doesn’t give a shit: he is kissing Antok whilst the big Galra touches him. Nothing could be better.

“Did you know Leader had stripes _there_?”

“No one ever sees him without his uniform…” someone replies with a hint of awe and terror.

And suddenly, Antok snarls.

Kolivan whines, halted from kissing, and the desperate movements of his hips against Antok’s hard flesh is interrupted by the way Antok rises from his seat.

“Show’s over. Fuck off, the lot of you.”

The world lurches as Antok stands, and Kolivan clings around the trunk of his body. He has no worries for his security, because Antok wraps one massive hand under his arse and pins Kolivan against him, using his tail to tuck Kolivan’s face into the curve of his neck once more. Kolivan can feel everywhere they touch, shivers as his loose hair flows over his bare back, and inhales the scent of this person who he loves.

He should probably tell Antok that.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I got you.”

Kolivan nips at Antok’s throat, claws raking through the thick ink-dark fur over his beautifully muscled shoulders, and tries to rock into the frustratingly covered shape of Antok’s hard-on.

“Fuck- _stars_ , Koli...” All of a sudden Kolivan is pressed up against a wall, crushed between the smooth flat surface and Antok’s firm chest and he growls in triumph. Antok’s lips against his are firmer and more fevered now, the thrust of his tongue forceful and hungry. Kolivan purrs, kissing him back with everything he’s got, using the security of Antok’s hold on him to rock his hips again.

He has waited long enough. He wants to _know_.

Antok’s hands tear the loose material of his suit away hastily, and Kolivan moulds himself against the other Galra. Antok’s tunic might be open and functionally useless at covering him now, but he still has his underwear on and Kolivan can’t reach it. Instead he ruts his own aching cock against Antok’s abs, a slick trail of precome staining his fur, and moans as the hand holding him up squeezes his arse, a finger slipping between the cheeks, one claw tip brushing over his hole.

Kolivan moans.

“Yes. Now.” Words are hard, kissing is better.

“Fuck… yeah, okay.”

Antok’s other hand leaves his hair and Kolivan huffs in disappointment until Antok kisses him to shut him up. There is some fumbling beside them, the beep of a door opening and the distinct keypad sounds of a lock being engaged, and then Kolivan is pulled away from the wall and pushed into a small, dark space. The door closes behind them and the overheads flickers on, too brightly. Kolivan squints, and Antok’s big hand covers his eyes.

“Shit-!” There is some more fumbling, and then the room dims to a far more acceptable level. “Sorry Koli.”

But Kolivan doesn’t much care about the view of the storage room around them, because he wraps Antok’s wrist in his hand and pulls it down so that he can kiss Antok’s fingers instead. Antok has nice hands, Kolivan’s always thought so, and he’s so strong and capable and dexterous. Antok shudders when he begins to suck one of the thick digits into his mouth. There’s something nice about it, having something in his mouth. It is knowledge, and Kolivan files it away for future reference.

“Oookay… oh Koli, you’re gonna be the death of me.” Antok’s words in his ear make Kolivan roll his hips again, whining when Antok stops him mid movement. They are alone, what could possibly be wrong now? “You gotta let me put you down a tic sweetheart. Yeah, you do.”

Kolivan growls huffily, and then Antok has a hand in his hair, tilting his face up for a kiss, and Kolivan finds he doesn’t mind being sat on the edge of a storage crate. Not when Antok is swiping his tongue over his fangs and inviting him to kiss back just as forcefully. Kolivan loses himself in it, the warm huff of breath, the texture of Antok’s longer fur against his cheek as their lips slide across each other, the sharpness of teeth. When Antok’s hands wrap around each of his thighs to yank him forward, he realises what it was his second in command was doing.

Antok is naked now.

Kolivan breaks the kiss to stare down between their bodies, and then he can’t pull his eyes away.

Antok is big. This is not surprising, because everything about him is big – from the pillow of his pecs to the swell of his thighs – but Kolivan can’t help but stare at the huge length of hard flesh alongside his own. Antok’s cock doesn’t stand upright under its own weight, but juts forward from the join of his hips, the inky colour of his skin under his fur fading into a pretty purple. The smooth head is flushed a richer shade with need, and a little bead of clear fluid appears under his watchful gaze. Antok palms over the end of his cock, and the motion allows Kolivan a view of the small but well-defined ridges which line the underside of the long muscle, each one broadening as they reach the base. He swallows dryly.

“Big,” he says, feeling stupid.

“Yeah Koli, I’m big. You OK?”

Kolivan answers him with a roll of his hips. They should not be crowded together in a storage cupboard discussing whether or not they should have sex. They should be fucking already.

“Yes. Now.”

Kolivan watches with fascination as Antok smears the pre-come from the tip of his cock over his fingers before his hand dips out of sight. He reaches out to touch Antok’s dick himself, delighting in the way Antok sucks in his breath, the muscles of his stomach coming into even sharper definition for a moment. Then Antok’s thick fingers are at his entrance, and Kolivan’s body welcomes them greedily.

“Fuck… you’re so wet.” Antok groans, and sinks a finger up to the knuckle into Kolivan’s hole. The stretch is briefly painful, and the feeling is slightly foreign, but Kolivan wants more. “Is this just because of today or…?”

“Always…” Kolivan rocks down against Antok’s hand with a noise of frustration. He wants it now, and Antok isn’t giving it him. He’s not sure what ‘it’ is, only that it is essential at this moment. “Always when I’m near you. All the time.”

“Oh, sweetheart-!” And then Antok is kissing him again – which is good – and slipping his second finger into Kolivan’s body – which is better – and stroking every place inside of him as though Kolivan is a treasure to be explored – and that is the best. “You’re so beautiful, Kolivan.” Antok murmurs between kisses. “So sweet and perfect. I want you so much.”

“Alright.” Kolivan squirms and clenches around the fingers breaching his body. “Take me.”

Antok growls, and Kolivan snarls in response, goading the bigger Galra to follow through on his desires. Kolivan blinks, and then his knees are being pushed apart and Antok’s fingers slip out of him with a slick squelch to be replaced by the blunt head of his pretty cock. Kolivan purrs as the tip pushes into him without resistance.

“ _Oh_ , holy fuck… Koli- _shit_ , that’s so good.”

“More,” Kolivan demands, trying to thrust himself onto Antok’s dick even though Antok has captured each of his thighs, thumbs right in the crease between leg and hip. Kolivan whimpers. “ _Please_?”

“Yes, sir.”

Kolivan gasps in surprise as he is lifted from the storage crate. All the air is forced from his lungs as Antok pushes him up against the nearest wall, using his grip on Kolivan’s hips and arse to pin him into position, and he yowls as the gravity of the station forces the rest of Antok’s thick shaft inside him. Kolivan claws at Antok’s back and shoulders, trying to fist the dense fur of his mane, finding the strands slipping through his fingers. It is too much, the stretch is too painful, and Kolivan thinks that maybe he really didn’t want to know this after all.

And then Antok shifts his hips, drawing out from him in a long, smooth movement, and Kolivan wants to cry from the loss.

“No, don’t go!”

“Wasn’t planning on it, sweetheart,” Antok purrs before fucking back inside, the flat of his hips colliding with Kolivan’s arse with a smack. “Stars- fuck, you feel amazing. So tight.”

Antok hasn’t got a hand to spare, but Kolivan tilts his chin up at the suggestion of the other Galra’s tail, and parts his lips to be plundered. He groans into the kiss, wrapping a hand around the back of Antok’s neck to keep with within easy reach. The motion is rewarded with another deep thrust, and Kolivan clings against his lover.

“Feels good?” Antok grinds his hips: Kolivan sees stars. “You like that sweetheart? Like having all of me inside you?”

“B-big.” Kolivan gasps and he is fucked even harder. “Yes.”

“That’s right. Biggest Galra on the base,” Antok sounds proud of this fact, and rightly so. Kolivan swears he can feel Antok’s cock reshaping every single part of him. He can barely breathe and he loves it. “Gonna ruin you for anyone else, sweetheart.”

Kolivan frowns as he is kissed. Something about that isn’t right.

“No one else,” he gasps out as the kiss breaks. “Nobody. Just you.”

“Koli?”

“Just you.” Kolivan rolls his hips, bringing his arse down to meet Antok’s slow thrust, and this time it’s Antok who chokes on the pleasure coursing through his body. “Always you.”

“Stars-!”

Kolivan’s next breath is lost to kissing, and then everything is a never-ending string of sensation as kissing and fucking bleed into one another. They are gasping against each other’s lips, sharing breath, and Antok’s big hands grip so tight around his hips Kolivan knows he will have bruises under his fur. And then the dexterous, smooth muscle of Antok’s tail creeps over his belly to wrap around the shaft of his cock, and Kolivan bites his own tongue.

“That’s it.” Antok is lifting him for each thrust now, letting gravity drop Kolivan down onto the length of his cock. His tail squeezes and strokes in tandem. “Fuck, you’re so pretty. Can’t wait to worship you properly, map out those lovely stripes.” Kolivan whimpers on the next thrust, and wraps his legs tight into the small of Antok’s back, keeping them pressed together. “Fuck yes, sweetheart. You close? You gonna come for me?”

As soon as he says it, Kolivan doesn’t know how he’s even held out this long, and the next rhythmic squeeze of Antok’s tail around his cock has him shaking and spilling himself into the space between them. Come streaks both their pelts and Kolivan buries his face in Antok’s neck, chest heaving as he struggles to breathe. Antok presses a closed lipped kiss to the top of his head, hips thrusting harder but with less precision, and his grip tightens so much, that Kolivan is fairly certain his claws have drawn blood.

“Fuck- Koli- _yes_ \- nghh!” Antok growls incoherently as his orgasm knocks all sense of pace and force from him, and he pins Kolivan as close to his body as is possible whilst his cock pulses and jerks inside him.

For a while, they just breathe, and then Kolivan finds Antok’s tail and wraps it around his hand, tugging gently to get his lover’s attention.

“I love you,” he states when Antok’s eyes meet his.

“Y-yeah?” Antok sounds like he just ran through one black hole and out of the other. He is still holding Kolivan up against the wall. “Good. I love you, too.”

With that admission out of the way, Kolivan allows himself to slump fully into his lover. The next time he blinks, he realises that Antok has adjusted their positions to something less straining, and is stroking through the loose mass of his hair.

“Everything you hoped your first time would be, sweetheart?”

Kolivan need to tell him about the mission, about how he couldn’t die because missing Antok was a more terrifying prospect than mission failure. Kolivan needs to tell him he likes the pet names, the kissing, and Antok’s propensity to wear easy access casual clothes. That’s going to be important going forwards, he’s sure.

But what he ends up telling the person he loves is;

“I thought there’d be a bed.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please come chat with us on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/SashaDistan)
> 
> This author responds to comments.
> 
> Thank you to the incredible [Lole](https://twitter.com/@leandralena) for being an awesome beta reader.


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